Hermione of Sparta
by Vulpeculis
Summary: Hermione, the daughter of Helen, is commonly overlooked. This is her life's story.


**A/N: This was originally written for my mother when she challenged me to write her a story. Please excuse and spelling or grammar mistakes! Enjoy!**

~ _Hermione of Sparta~_

"_Hermione," my mother whispered, "Hermione? Are you up?" _

"_Mummy?" I said confused. It was late, and I was tired. Eos hadn't even awoken yet; what could Mummy need right now?_

"_Hermione," my mother sounded close to tears, "Hermione, I have to ask you a question that will be very difficult for you to answer, love."_

_But I knew the answer to every question! I wanted to tell her, but she sounded so sad. I didn't want to make my beautiful mother cry, so instead I said the obvious, "What is it, Mummy?"_

"_I am going on an adventure, and I-"_

"_An adventure?" I said excitedly, "Like Jason?"_

"_Shh! You must stay quiet, my love, no one can hear us awake at this hour." my mother said, putting a finger up to my full lips. "I want you to come with me, love. But you would have to leave Sparta behind, and your father, your nurse-"_

"_Leave here? But Mummy-"_

"_Shh! Would you? Would you come away with me?"_

_I didn't reply immediately. "Can I...can I tell you tomorrow? I'm too sleepy now to think about it."_

_Mummy stifled a gasp and, it was hard to tell in the dark, but I think Mummy wiped a tear off her cheek. A gold bangle shimmered down her wrist as she lifted her arm up to her face. It made a tiny jingle when it hit the other bracelet. _

"_That's... that's fine, Hermione. I love you so very much. Remember that. Good night, my love. I wish you sweet dreams." whispered my mother. She planted a kiss lighter than a feather on my forehead and slowly walked toward the door. _

_She opened it, but stopped when she was one step out of the door. I was half asleep by now, but she whispered something to me, and then she was off. _

"_I will think of you always." she'd said._

* * *

><p>The sun was higher the next time I awoke. However, I woke up to the sound of scurrying feet and yelling. My door flew open and my nurse, Thea, forced herself in.<p>

"Oh, thank the gods, you are here! They didn't take you!" she sighed, and pushed a lock of blonde hair behind her ear.

"_Take me_? What are you talking about? Of course I'm here! Where else would I be?" I asked.

"Hermione...I have to tell you a terrible truth. Earlier this morning, you're mother Helen's chambermaid went to help her dress, but the queen was not in her bed. She's left with the Trojan ambassadors, Hermione. I'm horribly sorry." she said kindly, but the words still cut like a knife.

"She... she's _gone_?"

Thea nodded her dirty blonde head sympathetically.

"Just... _gone_?"

I chose not to tell Thea- or anyone else- about the conversation I had had with my mother that was coming back to me in pieces.

"I know this will be difficult for you to deal with, but I have more news for you, my dear." Thea said, kneeling down to my height and taking my hands.

"What?" I said shortly, too distracted to really care.

"Your grandmother wishes to breakfast with you this morning. She has said you must come to her immediately once you are dressed. I believe she needs some comfort today."

What about _me_? Why had mother left me? Did she not care at all about how I would feel?

"Hermione? Are you there, princess?" Thea asked, squeezing my hands.

"Why did she go?" I whispered, very close to tears.

"No one is absolutely sure, love. The people of the palace believe she has run away, left Sparta with that monster," Thea spat, letting go of my hands. She stood up and started pacing around the room like she did when she was very, very angry.

"Who's the monster?" I whispered, sniffling.

"That _Paris_. That perfect _Prince Paris _bewitched your mother. And now she has let her kingdom, her husband, and most importantly, in my opinion, you. A mother who abandons her daughter for a sixteen year old boy. Bah! The audacity of it!"

That did it. I started crying-sobbing- my heart, my soul, and my love for my mother out of my body. I grabbed my pale golden hair and pulled it hard.

Thea dove down and tore my hands away from my head. "Shh! Hermione, shh! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to upset you! Please, please forgive me! I'm so sorry, Hermione, shh!"

I managed to muffle my sobs and I threw my arms around Thea. She returned my hug still gently saying, "shh, shh," all the while. I wasn't sure how much time had past, but once my tears ceased flowing, Thea pulled away to look at my face.

"Are you ready, my dear?" she asked, "Do you think you have the courage to visit your grandmother this morning?"

I nodded my head a little, though I wasn't entirely sure.

Thea shook her head in acknowledgment and set out to find me a suitable outfit. I sat numbly on my bed, not caring about what she chose for me like I usually did.

"How about something pink? A pale pink color like the one your father loves to see you in? I think that will do, don't you, Hermione?" she asked, trying to cheer me up.

I nodded my head, "That would be great."

Thea looked nervously at me, but shook her head in acceptance. "And do you want to wear any jewelry? Perhaps that lovely necklace with the turtle on it? Or maybe the snake armlet?"

I didn't respond; this all seemed so trivial, so foolish. Who would care what I wore? My mother had just abandoned her kingdom. Did it really matter?

Thea seemed to sense that I thought as much when she stopped asking the questions.

"The turtle necklace with the pink peplos then." Thea muttered, reaching for the cloth.

After Thea was done dressing me, I would have thought that I looked nice. Reflected in the polished bronze I saw too much that reminded me of Mother. The pale golden hair, the full lips, the long hands, were all inherited from her. All of it, except for my eyes, my brown eyes, that were from my father, Menelaus.

Thea saw me staring at my image with a frown on my face and so she gently removed the metal from my hands.

"We should probably go now, princess. We don't want to keep the queen waiting."

"Yes," I agreed. She led me down the marble halls and the stairs. Then she took me down a hall that I didn't explore very often. Thea found my grandmother's door and knocked politely before opening it.

"The Princess Hermione," Thea said.

My grandmother, Leda, turned a round to face us. Her deep blue eyes were red with tears, and her thick black her that she kept in waves looked rather uncared for. Her indigo gown swished on the stone floor as she came towards me. Thea turned, and left us, closing the door as she went.

"Hermione," my grandmother whispered hugging me, "how are you this morning? I know this is difficult, for us especially."

My throat tightened up, so I couldn't respond. Instead, I just looked into her deep eyes and felt my lip tremble. Leda nodded like she had been expecting that, and indicated with her hands for me to go and sit down by the makeshift table she had set up for this meeting.

A servant appeared carrying a tray of colorful food. Bread with honey, two kylixes of wine with a diluting bowl, apples in a kantharos, and slices of various types of cheeses. I didn't know how hungry I was until the food had been brought in.

We ate in an uncomfortable silence for a time before Leda began to talk.

"Have I ever told you Helen's story?" Leda asked me.

"Do you mean the swan story?" I asked, hanging my head at the sound of her name.

"Yes, that story. People don't really believe it, though. But you and I know the truth. Your grandfather, Tyndareus, doesn't like to believe it, but then again, he doesn't like the idea that I favored a swan over him." She smiled wistfully over my shoulder. I couldn't figure out why she was telling me this.

"The gods fool around in the lives of mortals, Hermione. Your mother was one of many victims. She fell in love with that Paris boy on a whim of Aphrodite. You must not blame your mother, Hermione. It is not her fault."

But it was her fault. She had the power to or to not go, but she chose to abandon her home, her husband, me.

"Ah, you are angry at her, I can see it in your eyes," Leda said.

"And you are not? How could you not be?" I hissed.

She smiled her wistful smile, this time looking me in the eye. "I am too heartbroken to have any room left in me for anger."

"Oh," I said simply. Should I feel like she did? Should I allow myself to be consumed in sadness just so that I wouldn't feel so very angry?

No. I would not do that. It must be better to have anger than sadness.

I was desperate to change the topic away from my mother. Leda noticed this and said gently, "Your father returns. The funeral for his father is finished. He does not know of Helen's flight, and I fear for the safety of the people near him when he finds out. He loved your mother genuinely, you know."

This I was sure of. My father had proved on numerous occasions of his devotion to her. What was confusing about this was that my mother had loved him, too. How could her love change so abruptly?

The door opened and my grandfather walked in, his eyes red as well.

"Leda," he said, and then he eyed me.

"I should go," I said to my grandmother. She gave me one last hug and whispered to me, "Be strong," and I left.

I made my way back to my room and told the servants to leave me alone unless it was absolutely necessary to disturb me.

I laid on my bed; the days past.

* * *

><p>It was grey outside the day my father came back from his fourteen day journey. I was completely unprepared when I heard him rushing down the halls bellowing, "Did she take my daughter too?"<p>

The door slammed open and my father stormed in. I jumped out of bed terrified.

"I'm here, father! I didn't leave!" I said, close to tears. but these tears were out of fear, not sorrow.

"Oh," my father said swaying, "oh, Hermione."

He fell to his knees and embraced my small frame.

"You scared me, father,"

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," Menelaus whispered, "so sorry."

"Will we ever see her again?" I said, crying quietly again.

"Perhaps, but I swear, if I could, I'd kill her with my own two hands for this!"

I shuddered, but I knew it was better not to argue now. And besides, I didn't really have the strength.

"I cannot believe those Trojans broke the sacred oath!" He roared, standing up and leaving my room. He stomped down the halls, and I decided to follow him.

"Eat my food, drink my wine, sleep in my beds. _Steal my wife_? I should have listened to him! Again my brother's right! Peace treaties are for womanish men!"

I followed behind him, taking in every word.

"Hermione!" he said suddenly, turning around, "pack some things! We are sailing to Mycenae!"

"'Kay," I said, and sprinted back towards my room to find Thea.

Thea, it turned out, was already in my room when I arrived there.

"Thea! Thea, father said I have to pack to go to Mycenae! Now!"

She looked at me sadly, "So soon, little one? Your father only just got home. Is he really traveling again?"

"Of course!"

"Did he tell you for how long?"

"No! He just suddenly came up with the idea now! How's he supposed to know, Thea?" I said. I couldn't believe how slow she was being. She was normally very clever!

"I just wanted to know how much I should pack for you!" she said, a little angrily.

"Oh," I said. Now I felt like the slow one, "I'm sorry, Thea."

"Mhmm," she grunted, inclining her head, "now what would you like to pack, Hermione?"

* * *

><p>It took a week, a full week, to get to Mycenae via ship. I discovered then that I absolutely detested sailing.<p>

King Agamemnon, my uncle on my father's side, and Queen Klytemnestra, my aunt on my mother's side, were happy to greet us.

"To what do we owe this pleasure, Menelaus?" asked Klytemnestra in her deep voice. She looked positively majestic standing three steps above us on her marble staircase, with her purple chiton swaying in the breeze.

"Cut the man some slack, 'Nestra, he's only just got here! How's your peace treaty going?" Agamemnon said. He too, had a deep voice, but his had an edge to it.

"I am here because of that very thing, brother," Father said, climbing a step. I quickly followed him. Klytemnestra's eyes zoomed in on my face. She didn't look anything like my mother which was a good thing. She smiled at me, but it wasn't really a warm smile, more like a polite one that she thought was required for the situation.

"Tell me, Menelaus," she said, tearing her eyes away from my face, "where is my sister? You didn't leave her in Sparta did you?"

My father gave no reply.

"Well?" she asked impatiently.

"She's left," Menelaus said, hangdog.

"What?" said the queen.

"She left with the Trojans,"

"_What_?" Agamemnon bellowed, and I moved down a step on the staircase.

"That's why I'm here! I need your help to get her back!" Menelaus begged.

"That's right, sir! We will have war on those barbarians! They broke the oath of hospitality, didn't they? Didn't they?" Agamemnon roared, as if he was truly infuriated about their departure. I sensed something false, like he was acting in a show.

"Well, I suppose you had better come in then." Clytemnestra said bitterly.

* * *

><p>Dinner that night was a quiet thing, unless, of course, you were Agamemnon. He spent the entire time talking my father into a war and sipping wine. My father said the occasional, "yes," or, "exactly," or "that's right," but was silent otherwise.<p>

On the other hand, the queen stared down her husband at the other end of the table.

"Is this really necessary, Agamemnon? Do you honestly need to go and destroy their entire civilization because two peoples' folly?"

"But of course! And when we do so, you and I, my dear, can control the entire Aegean trade routes!" he roared.

Ah, so that was why he was in this. He did not care for my mother at all. He just wanted a war, riches, and glory. I glanced over at my father. He didn't seem to care very much. In fact, he looked so very sad next to his jubilant brother.

"Now, tell me brother, back during the suiting for Helen, didn't Tyndareus force the lot of you into an oath? Something about the whole 'protecting Helen' thing?"

Menelaus looked up, there was a new light in his eyes. "Yes, yes there was that!"

"How many people do you think were at that? Attempting to marry Helen?"

"Thirty! Forty even!"

"This is excellent, Menelaus! Forty allies! That's so many ships! We could sack Troy in a month! A week!"

"Daddy! Daddy you could do it! You'd be the best soldier ever!" said a cousin of mine, Elektra.

Agamemnon smiled at her and said, "Oh, Elektra! Were would I be without your moral support?"

Elektra giggled. It seemed that she favored her father over her mother. I hadn't seen her glance at Klytemnestra once this entire night. Her eyes were only for her father.

"But when would you come home, Daddy?" said the oldest, Iphigenia.

"Oh, don't worry about that, my sweet! We'll be home before you can say my name three times!"

Agamemnon turned his attention back to my father. He had russet colored hair, I suppose, red but brown, and his beard was the same color. He had a plump face, and his body was plump as well, both in muscle and in fat. He had adorned himself in an extremely expensive chiton and drank only the most valuable wine. He was almost an exact opposite of my father. Well, no, they looked very much alike, but yet, they were so very different! My father had hair the color of mice fur, a blonde or brown color. His eyes looked tired, while Agamemnon's were bright with excitement.

Klytemnestra, on the other hand, was the opposite of my mother indeed. She was much taller than my mother, towering over me. Her hair was not the familiar gold color, but the color of a chestnut, and it was very coarse. She was much tanner than my mother, who had been very pale. Her eyes were brown like her father's, not like my mother's, which had been blue like the sky.

I found I liked the difference very much.

"So you're Hermione?" said a girl across from me, cutting of my thoughts.

"Yes,"

"I'm Iphigenia," she said warmly, "it is very nice to meet you." She then reached over the table and held out a hand.

Startled, I reached out and shook it quickly before letting go.

She had gold hair like I did, but her eyes weren't the same color. She had brown and green eyes with a spattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She seemed like the kind of girl who would be anybody's' friend, the person who was nice to everyone.

As the night passed, I realized that her father doted upon her. He didn't tease the girl once, though he did with Elektra and little Orestes, but the two of them didn't seem to really mind. In fact, Elektra found it funny when he did that. I would hate it if my father teased me all the time like Agamemnon did to Elektra and Orestes.

I had almost drifted off in my chair by the time Agamemnon officially declared that supper was over. Father had to carry me back to my makeshift chamber and place we into my bed.

"Goodnight, my dearest," he said, kissing my cheek.

"'Night," I said, and I quickly fell asleep.

* * *

><p>A few months had past. It became clear that I was to stay with Klytemnestra and her children while our fathers were at war with Troy for my mother. That didn't bother me too much, because father said that with the number of ships he's going to sail to Troy, the city would fall in a number of days, and he'd be home before the week was out.<p>

"But why must you go?" I had asked him.

"To get your mother back," he'd said simply.

"But that doesn't matter! She doesn't matter! She doesn't even care about us!"

"Hermione," father had said seriously, "this is your mother you're talking about. You cannot possibly have that much hate in your little body for the woman who birthed you."

"She left me," I'd said baldly.

"She will come to her senses, and then she will come home," Menelaus had said.

"But I don't want her to come home!" I had said stubbornly.

"Your anger speaks," father had said, "you will change your mind in time."

I had shaken my head in disbelief, and he'd laughed.

"You'll change your mind, I have. Do you remember when I told you how I wanted to get her back only so I could kill her with my own two hands?"

I shuddered at the memory; I had never seen my father as angry as that, "Yes, I do."

"Well, now I want her back again, because..."

"Because?" I'd prompted.

"Because I love your mother very much," he'd said, and that had effectively ended our conversation.

* * *

><p>"Hermione? Care to come weave with Elektra and me?"<p>

"Iphigenia? Is that you?" I asked, and put down my apple that I was working on.

"Yes," she said, "so? Do you want to?"

I learned how to weave a little, Helen had taught me with my grandmother. But still, I wasn't very good at it.

"Sure, but I'm lousy with the loom," I warned her.

She laughed at this, "No one can be as bad as me! Really!" She took my hand and ran to the playroom.

It was a warm room, with a friendly red carpet. Little Orestes was playing quietly with a toy horse. He looked up and smiled sheepishly at me. He really wasn't that much younger than me, maybe seven to my nine years.

Elektra glanced up at our arrival.

"I present to you, the Princess Hermione of Sparta," Iphigenia said dramatically and bowed to Orestes and Elektra. Elektra giggled and got up from her loom to bow at her sister.

"What an honor," she said, still laughing a little. Orestes came up to me and kissed my hand.

"My lady!" he said joyfully, causing laughter from his sisters and a bit from me too.

In the end, we got absolutely no weaving done. Instead, we played a very barbaric game of "war." Basically, It was Iphigenia and me attacking Elektra and Orestes quite a bit. Or Iphigenia and Elektra destroying mine and Orestes fort. Or all of us versus Orestes. Or Iphigenia against the lot of us. She was such a good fighter, she always won.

"Maybe I should become a Hunter of Artemis!" she said, putting a foot triumphantly over her brother's back.

"You should!" I said, "you'd probably be the best!"

"Oh you could be, I suppose," said Elektra, "but don't you ever want to get married?"

Iphigenia shrugged, "Well, I am going to unless I become a Hunter, right?"

"Never getting married? What would life be like if you didn't get married?" Elektra asked.

Iphigenia struggled, and eventually just shrugged, "I don't know. I'm just being silly. I won't actually become a Hunter."

"Good, because mother wouldn't like it one bit," Elektra said.

* * *

><p>They'd been ready to sail for four days now, but there was no wind.<p>

It was all Agamemnon's fault. Apparently he'd had the audacity to claim that he, a mere mortal, was a superior hunter than Artemis herself because he'd managed to kill one lousy dear. How stupid was he?

And now he had no wind, which meant he could not go to Troy.

Agamemnon grew impatient, and sought out the advice of a soothsayer, who told him something ghastly. Agamemnon would not tell us what it was, but it was clear by the look of terror on his face that it was horrible.

Then, on the fourth day, while I was playing with Iphigenia, Elektra, and Orestes, Klytemnestra burst in looking the happiest I had ever seen her.

"Iphigenia!" she said joyously, "come! Come quickly! We must get you properly dressed!"

"What are you saying mother?" Iphigenia asked her. If anyone else had asked the queen something with that tone, Klytemnestra would be the last thing they would ever see. But Iphigenia was special to both her parents.

"You are to be married, my child! To the fierce warrior, Achilles!"

"Achilles?" she said. Was Iphigenia even old enough to get married? To my surprise, she could've easily been thirteen or fourteen. It was because of her childish behavior that I thought her to be younger than her actual age.

"Oooh! Mother can I help her dress too?" Elektra begged, "me and Hermione? Please?"

"Yes, yes, of course! Now let's get a move on!" the queen said.

We all rushed into Iphigenia's chambers, chattering about her future with Achilles, but I said nothing. It was all very suspicious to me, a marriage? Now? At the same time when Agamemnon was headed off to Troy? I could tell I was not alone in my suspicions by glancing at Klytemnestra. She kept looking at her daughter, worried, like she couldn't make any sense of it either.

In any case, we chose a fabric of the finest white, put a silver bangle on each wrist, and did, to her mother's horror, nothing to her hair at all.

"But you must wear it up" Klytemnestra demanded.

"Mother, I believe I can make that decision by myself," Iphigenia said with her head held high, "it's my life, you know."

"Well, well all right, then. Iphigenia, say good by to your sister and your cousin before we go down to the beach."

Iphigenia hugged Elektra and me at the same time, "I'll see the both of you very soon. After I'm married, I'll send for to come visit me right away! I love the both of you very much." she whispered to us.

And then she was gone.

And she didn't ever come back.

* * *

><p>Agamemnon needed wind, but Artemis wanted Agamemnon to pay for what he did. The soothsayer claimed that the goddess demanded the sacrifice of Iphigenia. My uncle didn't want to do that, but his men revolted, telling him that "you must!" or "it's for the good of the army!" or "she's just a girl!" and horrible things like that.<p>

In the end though, he gave in to his men. He sent for Klytemnestra, he told her that his daughter would have the honor of marrying Achilles. But when Iphigenia went down to the beaches dressed in bridal attire, her father told her the terrible truth.

At first, she struggled. She did not want to die, according to the household gossip, she wanted to live. That sounded like the Iphigenia I had known.

But her father needed wind, and the goddess needed blood.

And brave little Iphigenia gave in. She marched courageously towards her executioner while her father hid his ugly face beneath his robes. So no one would see him cry, I've heard, and think him a weak man.

But he _was_ weak, like Helen had been weak. He did not defend his first born from the blade that claimed her life. No. Instead, he was pressured into the despicable act by men he had never met before in his life. He chose himself over the life of his daughter.

And now his wife hates him. She refuses to acknowledge his very existence. She hates, no, she despises him. He has made an enemy of Klytemnestra, mark my words, he has. He should fear for his life. If he survives this war, he will come home to a wife holding an ax over his head.

So he killed his daughter for wind, and, to my horror, the goddess gave

him it. Agamemnon left with a monstrous naval army just after murdering his daughter. All for Helen, supposedly.

I hope she feels disgusting when she finds out that her niece died to bring her back to Sparta.

I hope she feels disgusting when she realizes she's left her daughter with no one.

I hope she feels disgusting when she realizes that is was her face that launched a thousand ships.

I hope she feels disgusting when people die in her name.

And I've never actually hated her before. Not really, it was all show, and father had been right. I hadn't truly hated the woman who birthed me.

But I did now. I did with all my heart and soul, I hated that woman who caused the death of my first friend. With all my heart I hated the woman who left me. I hated her for taking my father away, and for all the deaths that this was bound to cause. I hated her for making me stay in this dark and dead castle for an unknown period of time with only three people to keep me company. I hated her for not coming back to me. I hated her for ever telling me she loved me, when clearly that wasn't the case.

I hated her with all my heart, and I could never see how that could possibly change.

* * *

><p>And it didn't. My hate for her did not change with the years. The ten long years. And my father still wasn't home. And I was nineteen and I was alone.<p>

Iphigenia's absence was strong during the first years after her death. In fact, it still was, really, and I didn't think it would ever go away.

Elektra, Orestes, and I heard her laughter sometimes, in the halls, in the playroom that was slowly abandoned after Iphigenia was no longer there to be in it. We saw her in the polished bronzes sometimes, in the clothes she used to wear that no one could manage to throw away.

Klytemnestra had fared the worst of course, Iphigenia was her daughter. So often she swore to avenge her, that is became a common phenomenon to hear the terrifying words that came out of her grieving mouth. And if that was not enough, she'd taken a lover, Aegisthus, to spite her husband who was still away at Troy.

Aegisthus was the cousin of Agamemnon and Menelaus, and, like the rest of the house of Atreus, he was a very large man. He was rounder in the middle I suppose, but nowhere near as massive as my early memories of Agamemnon. He had the same russet colored hair, but his eyes were much different. They were a hazel color, but they glowed with warmth.

He reminded me a little of my father, really.

In any case, Elektra, Orestes, and I had grown up. Elektra was a very tall woman like her mother. Her hair was an extremely dark brown color, but it wasn't quite black. She wore a slightly bitter expression all the time, and, one would would think it was because of her sister's death, but actually, she wore it because of her mother's constant threats on her father's life.

Orestes had grown tall as well, but he missed all of the fighting at Troy. According to Klytemnestra, I was actually supposed to marry Orestes when the time came to it.

However, that was not the case. My dear, loving father recently promised me to the son of Achilles, so that the boy, Neoptolemus was his name, would come to fight at Troy. I believe he is around ten years old. i I will not marry the ten year old. I will not.

I would rather marry Orestes, but that may or may not ever actually happen.

How I wish women could pick their own husbands for a change!

* * *

><p>The war in Troy has been over for a full year, and still, there is no hint of my father coming home. However, my first and only suitor stormed into the castle of Klytemnestra, and we were completely unprepared.<p>

Neoptolemus was just as barbaric as his father was, according to myths. These were proven true when he forced his way into my room, startling me.

"Are you Hermione?" he'd asked, his voice was like a knife, cold and sharp.

"Y-yes, but sir! I'm not properly dressed! I must ask that you leave at once," I'd stuttered.

Neoptolemus snickered, "You're not exactly what I'd pictured, but you'll do," then he walked over towards me, and I was still terrified of his sudden appearance. He grabbed my stiff body and threw me over one of his shoulders. Suddenly, I came to life and started kicking and scratching at this boy. He was to strong to be a ten year old, yet ten year old he was!

"Stop it!" he bellowed . Well, I did no such thing!

"Hermione? What is this?" said a voice that I recognized as Orestes, "Unhand hear at once sir!"

"Absolutely not! I am Neoptolemus, son of Achilles, and I am here to take my bride!"

What? I couldn't marry him! He was a monster! There had to be some mistake!

"And who told you that she was marrying you?" Orestes demanded. Did I detect a hint of fear in his voice?

"Menelaus," Neoptolemus said defiantly.

"Oh," he said. This time I definitely heard a tone of disappointment in his voice.

With that, Orestes stepped aside and allowed Neoptolemus to take me away to his ship. No one else tried to stop him, but everyone looked rather terrified of what was happening.

I realized I had my eyes shut tight, and opened them only when I felt myself fall onto a very hard, wooden structure. I was already aboard a ship it seemed, and Neoptolemus was giving directions to the sailors. I stood up quickly, and ran to the railing to get one last look at the place that had been my home for ten years. It was more my home than Sparta was!

At last, it got quite dark out, and the castle had long since faded into the distance, I leaned away from the ledge of the boat, and sat down, sobbing like I did when Helen first left me.

"Hermione! Crying I see," said a sharp voice. Neoptolemus, no doubt.

I held my tongue, though I wanted to attack him with words.

"Ignoring me? Well then, you've got quite a bit to learn," How dare he!

I kept quiet.

"You're impossible," he said, shaking his sandy colored head, "don't you speak?"

"Not to barbarians," I said, but mentally slapped myself for saying the words.

"'Barbarian?' 'Barbarian?' What did I ever do to you?"

"You tore me away from my home and threw me on a ship! Did you honestly believe-"

"That bothered you?" he said, shocked.

"Of course! Are you mental?"

He didn't answer. Maybe he would hush up now that he realized he had been a monster this morning.

"Gods, you're ridiculous," he whispered, leaving me.

"Oh, I'm ridiculous? You're the one who forcefully carries off-"

"Hold your tongue! I do not wish to hear you speak," he yelled, spinning around to face me.

I blinked at him. No one had ever taken that tone with me. Did I truly have to marry this man?

I watched him stalk off, but I thought only of Orestes. My grandfather, Tyndareus, had promised me to my cousin quite a long time ago. Perhaps I should have mentioned that when Neoptolemus came bursting into my home.

I missed home, and I missed Orestes. He was like the brother I'd never had. I would rather be married to a man who I was friendly with than to this monster, no matter how 'glorious' he was or thought to be. Maybe Neoptolemus would discover that he actually despised me and did not want to live with me for the rest of his life. Maybe he would send me home, so I could marry Orestes and greet my father for the first time in ten years.

I had so many wishes, and yet, it seemed that none of them could possibly come true while on this ship with Neoptolemus.

* * *

><p>It took us about a month, but eventually we got to the splendid land of Eprius, a land that my dear husband conquered gruesomely.<p>

He was so horrible. His attitude had not improved since I had first met him, and all he cared about was that his desires be carried out. A horrible man...

Though I hated him, I knew it was my duty to provide him with sons, though already has one with his Trojan concubine, Andromache. I see the brat, Molossus was his name, everyday, running gaily about the castle. He reminds me everyday of my failure as a wife.

But I was young and I had my monthly blood regularly. I must have been under some sort of a spell... But who would do such a thing? Well... there was one person. But why? Was she seriously that jealous of my position as wife? Did she want my title?

What could Andromache hope to accomplish by doing this? If anything, it would be she who paid the price in the end. Suddenly I was enraged. Did she know what sort of torture I went through nightly? Did she want me to suffer? Was it because of my despicable mother? Was it because Helen caused the death of Hektor, her late husband? Did she want revenge?

I needed her to stop her sorcery. Then maybe I would be happy, if I had a son or daughter like I should have had by this point in my life.

I sent a messenger to Sparta to fetch my father to come and aid me. He would know what to do. He would help me kill this horrible woman who was stopping me from being with child. And then maybe my frightening husband would stop being so terrible to me...

* * *

><p>When my father arrived, we spent no time with the usual greetings.<p>

"Hermione, I've heard you are in trouble?" Menelaus asked, after giving me a quick hug.

"Father, it is because of my husband's Trojan concubine, that Andromache woman. She is preventing me from having a son. You must help me father!" I told him desperately.

"Are sure of this, daughter?" he asked me, concerned.

"Yes, father. I can feel her magic in my veins," I cried.

"Very well, we shall put an end to this, daughter, do not fear. And does Neoptolemus know of this?" Father asked, then he looked around, "And where is the lord of the house, may I ask? Why is he not here to greet his father-in-law?"

"H-he is in Delphi, father. I know not why. He does not confide in me these sort of things. Please father, I fear our time is short. If we are to stop her we must do so quickly. I fear for my life, father," I whispered, terrified.

"Very well," he said gravely, "let's get a move on then."

I had no idea what father had in mind to do about this, but I didn't like it when I saw him unsheathe is sword. I didn't want ot kill her, I just wanted to stop with this magic. I told my father such, but he waved my comment off.

"You will only be safe if she is dead, Hermione. These Trojans are treacherous villains, indeed."

I realized there was nothing I could do to change his mind, so I was forced to lead him to Andromache. She was in a courtyard with Molossus, but, when she saw us coming, she grabbed her son and ran in terror towards the household shrine where she knew she would be safe.

"Please! please have mercy on a woman!" Andromache begged, "And if not, at least have mercy on my son!"

I became infuriated, "'_Have mercy_?' 'Have mercy on_ you_? _Never_! You have poisoned me, you sorceress! You have-"

"I beg to differ, madam, but I have done no such thing, I swear on my son's life!" she says.

"_Oh please_! Coincidence, is it, that I have not had a single child in seven years, while you have a perfectly healthy bastard? Coincidence, is it?" I demanded.

"I swear, I have not bewitched you and I am no sorceress!" Andromache said defiantly.

"Get off the altar, you swine," Menelaus demanded.

"I will do no such thing. I have never injured your daughter sir! I see no reason for you to destroy me or my son at this moment. I am innocent, I swear to it!"

"What on earth is this?" said a very old voice from behind me. My grandfather-in-law, Peleus, father of Achilles. If he were younger, he would have sounded outraged, I am sure.

"Peleus, sir, we are here to stop this witch from poisoning my daughter!" Menelaus said, defending the both of us.

"I swear to you, Peleus, I have never hurt a hair on her head!" Andromache wailed, "I haven't! Oh, Hektor! How ashamed you would be of me now! Begging for life from your enemies!"

"Enough of this!" Peleus said, "I, for one, refuse to believe this lovely lady would ever hurt another human being! In fact, if anything, more crimes have been done to her than to all of you combined!"

"My dear fellow! Have you never heard of my wife's abandonment of me? This creature knows nothing of true pain!" Menelaus said. Stupidly, in my opinion. If Andromache could be herself or trade places with my father, I was sure she would chose the latter.

Just then, when everyone was least expecting it, a messenger came sprinting through the courtyard.

"News! I bring news!" he panted, "Terrible news!"

"Well spit it out then, lad!" Peleus demanded.

"Our young lord, Neoptolemus, I mean, he's- he's dead!"

My husband... dead? It couldn't be true! What was I to do with myself now? I was lucky to have been married to the brute, but now no one in their right mind would marry me. Daughter of an adulteress, widow of a terrifying husband. What was I to do?

"-was stabbed by mass of them, a whole lot of people! Jumped on him at once. All because he defiled a temple of Apollo! It was horrible! Absolutely horrible!" the messenger was saying, but I took in none of it.

"...Horrible, indeed," Peleus said. He sounded so very defeated, "I... I thank you for this... this news..."

The messenger nodded, and left us immediately, sensing he was no longer wanted among us.

"I must ask that you leave at once, Menelaus. And take your daughter with you! Go back to Sparta! I have had enough pain for one day. Andromache, my dear..." Peleus reached out a hand for Andromache to take. She helped him walk back to his rooms.

"Hermione," Father said, "pack your things. We are going back home."

Sparta. I hadn't been there in eighteen years. Ordinarily, I would have loved to go back to my homeland. But Helen was back there now. I hated her too much, I couldn't bear the thought of meeting her again.

But I knew I must. I had nowhere left to go.

* * *

><p>I had been carefully avoiding my mother since my arrival in Sparta. She had, it seemed, been carefully avoiding me, as well. In fact, I hadn't seen her at all in the entire time I'd been in Sparta. That didn't bother me too much, really.<p>

I spent most of my time weaving, like I did with Iphigenia and Elektra all those years ago.

Speaking of Elektra, she's forced her brother to do a rather horrible thing recently.

Klytemnestra, her mother, as I very well knew, despised Agamemnon with a burning passion after he had sacrificed their eldest daughter. She and her lover, Agamemnon's cousin, Aegisthus, had conspired together to kill him the day he got home.

Unfortunately for Agamemnon, the plot carried through, and he lay dead with a wound to his head in the bath. But that wasn't enough for my aunt, she wanted more.

Angry with Agamemnon for taking a Trojan concubine and falling in love with her, Klytemnestra decided to kill the poor girl as well. So at the end of the day, both Agamemnon and Kassandra lay dead up the floor.

This infuriated Elektra. Strangely enough, she wanted nothing more than to murder her mother for killing her father, even though he was responsible for the death of her beloved sister. So Elektra called upon her little brother Orestes. She then told him that he had to avenge their father by killing their mother and Aegisthus.

And so poor Orestes was forced by his horrid older sister to murder his mother and her lover who had been more of a father to him than this Agamemnon that he was avenging. Now Orestes is hounded by the Furies who torment him for killing his mother. I had so loved Orestes... but it was not even his fault. It was evil Elektra's fault. She forced her brother to commit that terrible crime instead of dirtying her hands. She was not the Elektra that I had once known, that much was true.

I was lamenting over this when I heard the faintest tap upon my door. Thinking it was a maid bringing me the wine I had asked for quite a long time ago, I allowed her entrance. But it was no maid.

Queen Helen of Sparta (or is it of Troy?) was not what she once was. her golden hair had streaks of grey in it now. Her sky blue eyes were tired, as if they had seen too much. Her brows were set in a very nervous expression, like she couldn't quite understand what she was doing here.

"_You_," I said venomously, "get _out_."

"Hermione, please, let me explain-" she began.

"Absolutely not. _Explain_? What is there to explain? I understand everything _perfectly_! I _hate_ you. _Get out! Now!_" I screamed.

"Hermione, no! Listen! Please!" Helen begged again.

"No! I refuse! Get out!" I shrieked. Anger had engulfed me, that much was true, but fear was prominent in my heart as well. Secretly, I was terrified to find out what she had to say. I had dreaded this moment my entire time in Sparta. I did not want to meet my mother again. I did not want to hear what she had to say. She had ruined my childhood with her absence and was here now to destroy my adult life too.

"Hermione, please! I missed you everyday, every minute, every second, when I was in Troy!"

"Oh, _clearly_! You've missed me _so_ much that you've waited _a full seventeen years_ to see me again! How honest you are!"

"No, Hermione, it wasn't like that! I was dead here! I was so dead, Hermione! I needed life! So I-"

"-_so you abandoned your daughter for a sixteen year old_?" I shrieked.

"No! No! I wanted you with me, Hermione! You brought me joy! Happiness. I needed you, but you wouldn't come with me! You wouldn't come!"

"I said no such thing! I told you I would tell you in the morning! I was _nine years old_! Do you think I could've made that decision?" I demanded. Was she really so naive to believe that I could have done that by myself at nine years of age?

"I realize that that would have been hard but-"

"_I have regretted that decision for my entire life_! Does that make you happy? Knowing that I would've gone with you if I could go back and change it?"

"No, no. There are so-so many things I would change if I could go back. The thing I would change first, Hermione would be to watch you grow up. To be with you the entire time, Hermione. I would, that's what I would do first. Be with you, Hermione. Because the one thing that I can say I learned at Troy for sure was that nothing changed how much I loved you. _Nothing_. You are the most important thing to me. Please believe that, Hermione. Please believe that."

I felt myself crumpling, falling to the floor sobbing. The next thing I knew was warm arms wrapping themselves around my shaking body.

"I believe you," I said.

* * *

><p>Hermione goes on to marry her cousin Orestes, who, after cutting off his thumb, manages to get the Furies to stop hounding him. They enjoy a happy marriage that produces one son, named Tisamenus. They rule jointly over Sparta with the dowager queen, Helen, living with them for the remainder of her life. Hermione and Helen became very close, if not truly loving each other.<p> 


End file.
